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You'll Stand At My Graveside (after Mary Elizabeth Frye).

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Don't throw earth on bones.

In Paris, The Sweltering

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Then dared each other to travel Much further

Rabbit Trail

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Sorrow fences with fear and questions

Fats

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It began the night my parents took my brother and I to see The Vikings at the drive-in and the trailer for The Girl Can't Help It came on the screen, introduced by the completely acceptable Tom Ewell, which the folks could swallow, he was one of them, but as soon as…

Assiduity Eight

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no snippet tasting

Dead End

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She'd still rest her fingers on your back, and her smile still lit the lantern of your soul.

The Secret Life

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The silver urn of ashes inscribed with his unknown name.

No Good Hubcaps - song

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I got no good hubcaps My van is up on bricks It's held together with duct tape And a couple of crummy sticks I caught the guy who did this And tied him to a tree I kicked him in the windpipe And kicked him in the knee I'm a man witho

Snow and snow, and snow and snow and snow, and snow, and snow

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A tough enough signal to read under the best of meteoric circumstances, this is one maybe I'll keep on thinking about. I might be able to make something everlasting out of this crazy shamble for love after all. I no longer…

Sailor & I

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We were born here. At the top of the stairs underneath a painting of basset hounds playing croquet. And a hallway closet filled with lost someones. And the police, three times a week, singing nursery rhymes while walking up to our door.

Late Eulogy

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We wished it had been murder./ It’s easier to hate for hurtfulness/ One you never knew.

I want to hear the man talk

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I remember going out to a restaurant with some guy and a friend of mine who brought her little boy along. And suddenly her boy said, “I want to hear the man talk.” Well, that stopped us. Smart kid, I thought. He was fed up hearing her women friends talk

Nocturnes

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You go out on a night with no moon, when all the stars are flush in the sky, when all of everything, even you, is just a shadow moving softly, and I swear, you can hear it, if you listen hard enough. The music. It’s like it’s coming from under the ground.

Cleaning Man

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The Zone is a garden of skyscrapers. Every building is a model.

Zen Yoga Mind Over Body Food Prep Hair Net

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See the hair Know the hair Remove the hair

Picture of You: Song

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Here’s a picture of you Lit up by the internal light Of the moon. It was a Super moon that night And the story of God Had not been told And we had to wait a good Long time to hear it out in the cold And I was the King of Fishers

Listening Room Night

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The surroundings, he thought, are just as important as what's surrounded.

Philosophic Fashions of Penultimate Times

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What are our reigning philosophies today, what dominant schools inform and lead our intellectual efforts, inspire our blissful reveries, inflame our breathless humanity?

Backing up at Wal-Mart

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An action oriented solution for bovinity

Blood Brother

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Treasonous brother

The oranges are dreaming

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The oranges are dreaming that they have turned to apples.

Taikutsuna, Abburido, Boring

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A Beatles haircut and loose Khaki painters overalls rendered the child sexless. He or she walked over to Hugh’s side and standing tiptoe peered into the casket. She, for Hugh had determined it was a girl, stroked the silk lining.

Rain

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I am under the rain. Under. The. Rain.The rain comes after me. Beats me. I wait for the boom of thunder, fork of lightning. In the rain, I am afraid. In the rain, I don't know where I am going. In the rain, I am fucking ridiculous.I try to outrun the rain. My shoes sink…

Angelique

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She is an old soul...

our measured treads

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—and the god presiding over all / a four-faced, double-Janused clock / its equal seconds clickt away / ticking us our steps and breaths . . .

Drama Days

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And you lean forward and all of that caffeine anxiety rises up in your throat, the pressure in your jaw, a series of weights and pulleys on your teeth and at the back of your mouth. So when you open your mouth to talk, no sound is made, only the sound of

Nearsighted Singers, Your Time Has Come

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An old man in overalls with rags on his head known locally as Bo Peep made his way up from the black side of town to the white. After listening for a few moments, he shook his head in disgust. “Boy, you can’t play them blues.”

The Boss of Bosses

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The one thing my father told me that I want to believe is true . . .

Transformation

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The calculation was precise.

the global obscenity of your monthly $100 coffee habit [revised]

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My sixth grade teacher used to tell us all the time about how being poor is nowhere near the same as liv­ing in poverty.